


By Order of the Crown

by lasersheith



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Crack Played Straight, Fluff, Humor, I have no idea what to tag this as, Keith is a nerd, M/M, Modern AU, shiro works at medieval times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-03 18:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16331570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersheith/pseuds/lasersheith
Summary: Jousting! Sword fights! Falling in love? Keith's birthday celebration at the local Medieval Times has much more than just the standard equestrian showmanship.Matt stood leaning against the wall, one knee bent as he checked things off of the clipboard he had balanced against the giant ruffle of his jester costume. "Hey, can I see the birthday list?" Shiro asked quietly, sidling up beside him.Matt raised a suspicious eyebrow at the way Shiro's cheeks bloomed with crimson blush. "Why?"Clearing his throat and shrugging, Shiro attempted to twist his arms and legs into some approximation of a casual stance. "There was just this guy, I wanted to know his name is all." He scrubbed at an imaginary scuff in his shiny armor with the back of his leather glove."Do we need to have a talk about stranger danger? I'm pretty sure Tyler is 8," Matt teased, flipping to the page containing the evening's "nobility."Shiro groaned, grabbing the clipboard out of his hands and searching the list.Keith, 23the third line from the bottom read. "Keith," he murmured breathlessly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to the lovely folks on the "Across the Universe" discord server who helped me pick out a horse :) 
> 
>  
> 
> [HERE HE IS](https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&source=images&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwjn_J-x447eAhXJmuAKHQeVCMsQjRx6BAgBEAU&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.pinterest.com%2Fpin%2F241364861248994514%2F&psig=AOvVaw3jZbXC39EtDzS_ImL6wpje&ust=1539910391375164)

The paper crown pushed Keith's hair down into his eyes as he gritted his teeth in a horrifying approximation of a smile-turned-grimace. The camera flashed with a tiny click that had blue and purple dots dancing across his vision.

He stepped down from the "throne" and glared at Lance's smug grin. "I hate you," he growled.

Lance's grin only widened. "You love me and you know it," he protested in an infuriating sing-song.

Keith closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Decking his alleged friend in the middle of a Medieval Times while wearing a paper crown and traumatizing a gaggle of children celebrating someone's 8th birthday seemed like an awful thing to have to explain needing bail money for. He chuckled as he tried to decide whether his mom's reaction would be _you did the crime, you can do the time_ or _did he deserve it?_

A little calmer after his moment's reverie, he opened his eyes again and they widened in shock. A tall, gorgeous man in full knight regalia was leaning over one of the wailing brats, awkwardly posing for a picture, when their eyes met. Keith's lips parted of their own accord as the air between them seemed to electrify.

Lance grabbed his arm, jarring him from the tantalizing sight. "Come on, _Sire_ , let's get to our seats! I'm ready to see some nerd fights!" He tugged at Keith's sleeve like one of the impatient children.

Keith shrugged his arm away, glancing back again at the handsome stranger, hoping for an open moment to go talk to him. Another member of the birthday party had grabbed onto the man's leg and pulled him down for hug. Keith couldn't blame her.

He told himself there would be time after the show as he followed Lance's lead to a wide archway concealing a boring, normal door. Their seats were dead-center in the very front row.

"Ta-da! See, my sister working at the dork-factory pays off!" Lance called enthusiastically at the large plastic chair made up to look like a throne, silver and gold streamers hanging off either side. The placard read _Sir Keith and squire_.

He thudded into the chair and crossed his arms over his chest. It was at least more comfortable than it looked. Lance raised an eyebrow and sat down. "What? I thought you loved this kind of geeky thing?" he pouted.

In truth, Keith did love it. It was fun and goofy and he was excited to see the knights joust and sword fight and defeat the evil Black Knight and save the kingdom. He knew he was a nerd, and he was more than fine with it. What he wasn't fine with, however, was Lance's insistence on making him the center of attention. All of the pictures and curtsies and the part of the program where his name would be announced to everyone in the stands... that he wasn't thrilled about at all.

"Whatever," he grumbled, picking up his goblet and draining it. "Be a good squire and get me tanked." He thrust the goblet into Lance's chest.

* * *

Shiro loved kids, almost as much as he loved horses. Each had their downsides, but he always found that the good far outweighed the bad. Like the look of pure joy on little Tyler's face as the White Knight knelt next to him and smiled wide for a picture.

And then as he turned his head to wish Tyler a happy birthday he found himself looking up into the most beautiful pair of blue eyes he'd ever seen. The man was blushing from his collarbones to the tips of his ears, the paper crown on his head tilted to one side as it forced down his long, silky looking hair. Shiro's heart started and stopped in fits and suddenly he felt like he couldn't breathe.

The man's attention was torn away by his friend, snapping Shiro back to reality as the entrancing contact was broken. He stood up and ruffled Tyler's hair, laughing as a little girl threw her arms around his thigh.

Shiro grabbed her arms and knelt again, pulling her into a proper hug. She sobbed against his shoulder, overwhelmed with joy. "Hey, you're ok," he consoled leaning back with his friendliest grin. "Show me a big smile, ok? Smiles are what gives me the strength to save the kingdom!"

She rubbed her eyes on her sleeve and grinned wide for him. "There we go," he murmured, giving her a gentle boop on the nose as he stood.  

She ran back into the crowd of kids, following them as they made their way to enter the arena. Matt stood leaning against the wall, one knee bent as he checked things off of the clipboard he had balanced against the giant ruffle of his jester costume. "Hey, can I see the birthday list?" Shiro asked quietly, sidling up beside him.

Matt raised a suspicious eyebrow at the way Shiro's cheeks bloomed with crimson blush. "Why?"

Clearing his throat and shrugging, Shiro attempted to twist his arms and legs into some approximation of a casual stance. "There was just this guy, I wanted to know his name is all." He scrubbed at an imaginary scuff in his shiny armor with the back of his leather glove.

"Do we need to have a talk about stranger danger? I'm pretty sure Tyler is 8," Matt teased, flipping to the page containing the evening's "nobility."

Shiro groaned, grabbing the clipboard out of his hands and searching the list. _Keith, 23_ the third line from the bottom read. "Keith," he murmured breathlessly.

Matt laughed and snatched it back. "Are you really trying to get with a guy who thinks it's cool to come to one of these places for his," Matt paused as he glanced back down at the paper, and raised an eyebrow. "23rd birthday party? With only _one_ friend?"

Crossing his arms as well as he could in his costume, Shiro fixed Matt with an unimpressed look. "Uh, we work here," he countered. "I'm pretty sure that makes us twice as lame as that guy. Plus, I love working here! And so do you! It's a cool place!" He threw his arms in the air and headed into the back to get ready for the show.

Matt stayed put, continuing to check in guests and direct people to restrooms as needed until his part of the show.

* * *

 

Sneaking a quick glance at the schedule and sighing in relief, Shiro headed over to the stall marked Bess in big yellow letters. Hunk was at the beautiful brown mare's side, lovingly brushing her mane and cooing to her as Shiro approached.

"Hey, can I ask a big favor?" Shiro gave his best puppy eyes.

Hunk looked up and smiled. "Sure, what's up?"

"Well," Shiro scratched the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. "There's someone here tonight that I really want to impress, so I was wondering if we could switch wins. I take tonight and you can have my Saturday at 7."

Hunk smiled. "That's adorable! Of course I'll help!" He crooned, slapping Shiro on the back. "Although, and don't worry, I'll totally still help you with your guy tonight if you can't, no pressure," he held out his hands and gave them a slight shake. "My nephew's birthday party is next weekend, but I'm supposed to work Friday night and all three shows on Saturday. You're not on the schedule, so maybe you could take over for me? I know it's a big ask, but he's 5 and adorable and he really wants me to teach him how to bake a cake." Hunk's puppy eyes were much more persuasive than Shiro's.

"Of course, man. Definitely. I was just gonna procrastinate studying for midterms." Shiro agreed, knowing both that Hunk deserved the time off to go visit his family and that he always brought back enough leftovers to feed a small army. He was powerless to resist anything cooked by Hunk's family.

Hunk's grin widened. "Great! I'll go tell Matt and Coran. Good luck tonight! If you get married, I absolutely have dibs on best man, Matt can stuff it. Just saying!" He called over his shoulder as he walked towards the office.

Shiro laughed and gave Bess a pat on the head. Her warm brown eyes seemed to gleam with amusement. "Hush, I have enough people making fun of me tonight already," he chided, giving her a scratch under the chin.

He made his way to his own horse's stall and smiled as the excited neigh that echoed off of the walls as he approached. "Hey, buddy. You ready to impress a hot guy?" He chuckled at his own joke as Atlas lowered his head for the customary pre-show pats.

Shiro pulled his helmet off and nuzzled his face into the side of Atlas's snout. His long, white mane and tail stood out in stark contrast to the black, silken fur that covered all but the tops of his hooves. He was the biggest horse in the stable by far, and the best, in Shiro's opinion. He was sure he would impress Keith with Atlas by his side.

The horse snuffled, wrinkling his giant nose and leaning into Shiro's head. "We're gonna do great tonight," he assured, patting Atlas on the neck before tossing open the gate.

Atlas stayed put, patiently waiting for Shiro to grab all of his equipment and sling himself onto the saddle. Reins loosely resting in one hand, jousting lance tucked under his other arm at parade rest, he clicked his teeth and his heels lightly. Atlas took the cue, calmly striding from the stall to line up behind the other knights waiting for Matt to announce them.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ladies! Lords! Nobles and peasants! Please join me in welcoming King Coran and the fair Princess Veronica!” Matt's amplified voice boomed, only slightly muffled by the closed curtain and the helmet Shiro wore.

Atlas shook his head and huffed, the loud noises and thrill of the evening ahead making him antsy to trot forward. Shiro soothed him with a long stroke down his neck and a murmured reassurance as Nadia, dressed to the nines in her red armor, was called out first. The line of horses took a few steady steps forward, waiting for the applause to die down and the next champion to be called.

It echoed in his head and in his chest, mirroring the rapid thumping of his heart. His hands were drenched with sweat in his gloves as Hunk was called, and then Allura, and then he and Atlas were stopped at the curtain, the blood rushing in his ears so hard he could hardly hear Matt's call of, “Shiro, The White Knight!”

Atlas's hooves pounded in the sand, drumming up swaths of dust as he raced through the curtain. Shiro squinted against the lights as they barreled forth from the dark entryway, the thunderous applause spurring both of them faster than was advisable in the small arena.

Shiro's gaze ravaged the crowd as Atlas raced by, desperately searching the front row in every color coded section for the piercing blue eyes that had captivated him before the show. With each passing color, his heart hammered harder against his chest, seeming to echo in his breastplate. It was a sweet gift of fate, he decided, as he approached the white section and finally found who he was looking for.

Their eyes locked and the sound around him seemed to fade to a dull buzz. Shiro swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat and thrust his lance skyward, nodding behind the helmet's bulk as Atlas careened through the turn. Keith's soft smile melted into a lopsided grin, hands frozen in midair between claps. It had only been half of a stolen moment, but Shiro had never been more determined to give his all.

Atlas slowed as they finished their lap, coming to rest beside Allura. Regris bolted through the curtain behind them, purple cape billowing as his horse trotted around the arena. Shiro knew he was being obvious, but couldn't keep his neck from twisting, couldn't help but burn the spot where Keith sat into his memory. He'd need it for it later.

Matt finished the announcements after Kinkade, in the armor of the Green Knight, took his introductory lap and lined his horse up with the rest of them. The stands clapped and roared as each section was called to cheer for their champion, each Knight raising a fist for the adoring crowd. Shiro let his eyes fall on Keith again, even more thankful for the metal covering his cheeks as he flushed watching Keith whistle excitedly for him before the Knights were corralled back behind the curtain.

* * *

The first round was a simple relay, one Shiro and Atlas had practiced together more times than he could count. No matter how many rings he hooked on the tip of his lance, he'd walk away the victor. The game already rigged in his favor thanks to Hunk's trade, but he steeled himself anyway. A sloppy win was still a win, but Shiro wanted to give Keith the show of his life.

Matt blared the starting call and Atlas burst forward, spurred on by Shiro leaning into his neck, lance at the ready. It took all of his concentration not to turn his head to the middle seat in the front row where he hoped Keith was sitting on the edge of his chair. Shiro's eyes narrowed against the harsh lights, focusing in on the white ring dangling on the breakaway line overhead.

Atlas's muscles bulged and tightened under Shiro's legs as the ring grew in his vision. He steadied his ragged breath and the lance against his side, letting everything else melt away while he took aim. The ring slid home as they blazed past and Shiro grinned wide, the temptation of seeing Keith's reaction overshadowing his sense of better judgement.

Twisting to the side, gripping the saddle tight between his thighs, he turned to catch a glimpse. Keith was looking right at him, cheeks split wide as he cheered. Shiro's heart soared even as his gut plummeted, the saddle shifting under him at the awkward angle. His lance slid down his side as he scrabbled to right himself.

Sensing his distress, Atlas slowed to a walk and rocked his head at Shiro’s desperate tug on the reins. Too embarrassed to look back and see if Keith had noticed, Shiro ducked his face down as they came to a stop at the back of the line preparing for the next round of the contest.

* * *

Lance bit his lip as Keith choked on his drink, the painfully sweet and artificially red liquid dribbling down his chin as he choked back a coughing fit. “I think our Knight has the hots for you,” Lance teased, handing his napkin over to Keith with a suggestive pump of his eyebrows.

Keith sputtered as he tore the napkin from Lance’s hand, wiping his face. “Shut up,” he murmured weakly, turning his attention back to the show.

“I can’t believe he almost fell, classic!” Lance bellowed, wrapping his arms around his waist as he shook with laughter.

Thumping his elbows on the table, Keith tried to focus on the rest of the Knights as they attempted to hook their rings. “Shut up, our guy’s going again!” He slapped distractedly at Lance’s arm.

Lance groaned, but stopped his fussing as they watched Shiro nail another ring, waiting to turn towards them until he was safely back at the starting line again. Keith gave a small wave and a wide grin, ignoring Lance’s snort beside him.

The rest of the first game went by in an exciting rush of clamoring hooves and spinning rings. Keith chuckled at the swell of pride in his chest as Shiro was announced the victor and his section roared in excited congratulations.

He gasped aloud as Shiro took a bundle of roses from the squire at his side, nodding his thanks and spurring his horse into motion. Keith's heart pounded against his ribs as the horse stopped at the barrier separating them. The gap between the arena and stands felt like miles as he reached up and pulled off his glimmering helmet. Keith sat transfixed as Shiro smiled at him, setting the helmet down between his thighs.

His hand flew to his mouth of its own accord, mirroring Shiro's as it brought the rose he held delicately between his thumb and forefinger to his lips. The gentlest ghost of a kiss pressed into the soft petals, and Keith knew his cheeks blazed a crimson deep enough to rival them.

The adoration in his eyes spoke a dozen volumes as he whipped his elbow around, letting go as his wrist straightened into a line pointing right at Keith. The flower soared through the air, a single petal falling from the blossom and wafting gently in front of their table.

Keith's mind screamed at him to move his hands, to reach out for the rose and catch it, cradle it close, but they wouldn't budge. He blinked hard and jerked his head away as first the heavy bud and then the prickly stem smacked into his cheek. The blow was soft, but jarring enough to spur his hands into motion, allowing him to catch the flower before it fell to the ground.

Lance cackled and wheezed in turns beside him as he scrubbed his sleeve along his cheek where a thorn had broken the skin. It bled like a papercut, just a tiny trickle, as Keith slammed his boot heel into the side of Lance's chair.

"Looks like your new boyfriend has pretty good aim," Lance crooned, readjusting his chair.

Keith hardly heard his mockery, gaze still locked on Shiro; he mouthed _it's fine_ to the horrified expression on Shiro's face. Lifting the rose to his face, Keith inhaled the sweet scent before placing his own soft kiss upon it.

Shiro's eyes widened before his face melted into a disbelieving grin. A man walked out from behind the curtain and jogged towards their impromptu staring contest, stealing away Shiro's attention with a tap on the leg. Keith frowned as Shiro looked down, facing flushing before being covered once again by the helmet.

He twisted the reins, pulling Atlas farther into the arena to quickly toss out his remaining two roses, though with far less fanfare. Relieved of his burden, Shiro offered one last wave as his horse trotted them both behind the curtain again.

"Oh my god, what the hell was that?" Lance was a puddle of barely contained giggles halfway out of the chair next to Keith.

Keith growled under his breath, kicking at the leg again. "Shut up. It was... it was cool."

Lance slapped at his thighs with both hands, shaking his head vigorously. "No, no, no. I have no idea what it was, but I do know that it definitely was _not_ cool." He could barely spit the words out through his great gulps and gasps for air against his ailing stomach as he fought back more laughter.

Keith set the flower carefully on the far side of his plate from Lance and crossed his arms over his chest. "Whatever," he grumbled, trying to will down the blush that still colored his too-warm cheeks. His gaze flitted back to Shiro as he disappeared behind the curtain again.

Their dinner was delivered while the staff bustled about preparing for the next round. Keith suffered through the King and Princess calling out the birthday announcements and landing the spotlight on him. Just to make things worse, Lance threw his arm around Keith and pointed enthusiastically at his crown while his sister tried to stifle her laughter.

Thankfully before Keith could die of embarrassment, the sections of long wooden plank that served as the jousting division was assembled and the next round began.

* * *

Shiro took in a deep breath, letting his eyes and his world narrow down to the tip of the lance he held at his side. Atlas shot forward at the crash of the starting bell, sending both of them careening through the sand towards Kinkade. The beat of hooves, muted in the sand, was drowned out by the blood thrumming in his ears from equal parts excitement and fear. They'd practiced together more times than Shiro could count, but there was real danger in this part of the show- one wrong move from either of them and there could be serious consequences.

He tried to breathe evenly as they came ever closer to converging into a haze of splintered wood shattering against metal. Leaning forward, he adjusted his lance, aiming for the dead center of the green eagle shrieking across the glimmering silver of Kinkade's shield, bracing himself to deflect the lance he knew was aimed at his own.

The seconds ticked by like eons until they finally slammed together, Shiro's lance erupting into a wooden mist as he fought to keep his eyes open against the spray. He clenched his thighs and held tight to the reins as Kinkade's expertly placed glancing blow twisted him sideways. Atlas plodded on through the noise and the shift in momentum unfazed, years of training keeping him calm even as Shiro's own heart thudded raggedly in his chest.

Kinkade slid from his saddle, rolling in the dirt and rising to his feet with practiced ease. He joined his squire, giving his horse an appreciative pat on the nose before walking back towards the curtain where Shiro waited, eyes roving over him to check for any sign of injury. Finding none, he let out a relieved breath and his gaze drifted to the stands again, seeking out Keith's face while Matt announced his victory.

Keith's head was turned towards the man at his side, an unamused pout gracing his plump lips as he muttered something Shiro couldn't have hoped to hear. He willed Keith to look his way before he had to leave the arena again, desperate for another glimpse of those impossibly blue eyes.

A harsh whisper from Nadia startled him back towards to the curtain, clicking his tongue for Atlas to make room for the next two contenders.

Lotor chuckled at him and clapped a hand against his back. “Try not to take my head off during our duel,” he teased.

Shiro blanched and slumped his shoulders. “I’ll be more careful, I promise,” he groaned. “Is Ryan ok?”

Lotor nodded. “He’s fine, you only knocked the wind out of him.”

Relief washed over him at the news, he’d hit Kinkade much harder than he’d intended, but by the roar of the crowd, he was sure it had looked spectacular. He was determined not to make a similar mistake during the final round.

* * *

 

Keith’s jaw dropped open as Shiro’s lance slammed into his opponent’s shield, the splintered wood shrouding him for a split second before the Green Knight slid from the saddle and rolled to his feet. “Wow, he’s incredible,” Keith murmured under his breath.

Lance scoffed. “You know it’s all rigged right?”

Whipping his head to the side. “Yeah, I’m not an idiot,” Keith protested with a glare. “Still, he’s really good at this.”

A sarcastic chuckle had Keith’s blood boiling. “You’re gonna cream your pants when you watch him fight _The Black Knight,”_ Lance’s voice took on a mocking fearful tone as he wiggled his fingers in Keith’s face.

Keith swatted them away with a grunt. “Whatever, go get me another drink before the next round starts.”

* * *

 

Shiro and Lotor rested their blades gently against each other, light catching metal and glinting onto the ground. Coran cleared his throat, the rest of the arena joining his cringe as the speakers squealed in protest. "Alright Champions, your duel begins... now!"

Lotor slid his blade down the length of Shiro's as soon as the words left Coran's lips. The grinding squeal had Shiro gritting his teeth as the metal met the pommel and forced his arm to the side. As his elbow quivered under the force, Shiro let it drop, moving with it and bashing his shield into Lotor's stomach.

The Black Knight sputtered as his breath came short, jumping back in perfect time and raising his blade again to parry Shiro's slow strike. It was a delicate dance, matching each other blow for blow, twist for turn, breath for breath as they executed the moves they'd spent months memorizing and perfecting.

He wanted to turn, to see if Keith was enjoying the show, to make sure that he was impressed, but even with blunted swords and a layer of metal between his flesh and Lotor's weapon, he knew he needed to stay focused.

The audience gasped as Shiro blocked a particularly vicious blow, tossing his shield to the side just as planned. He and Lotor circled each other, faces set in practiced grim determination. Lotor stopped suddenly, throwing his own shield to the dirt next to Shiro’s and smirking wickedly. His newly free arm came forward and he beckoned Shiro tauntingly with a flap of his fingers.

A cloud of dust exploded behind him as Shiro thundered forward, armor clanking with his heavy footfalls. Their swords crashed together, sparks flying as their battle raged. Lotor gave Shiro a subtle nod, a private signal. Their fight was drawing to its end.

Shiro took another leap forward, catching Lotor's empty shield arm with his own, twisting it back just to the verge of pain as he tackled him into the dirt. Lotor dropped his sword, the weapon flying off to plummet into the sand with a quiet thud. He brought his hands up to cover his face as Shiro held his sword high above his head in a two-handed grip, bringing it down towards Lotor's chest with deadly intent.

As the blade sank into the sand next to Lotor's stomach, the lights dimmed dramatically and heroic music blared from the speakers. Lotor winked before closing his eyes and letting his tongue flop to the side. Stifling his laughter and whispering a quiet _thank you,_ Shiro stood and raised his arms triumphantly, legs twisting of their own volition towards the plastic throne where Keith sat in rapt attention.

Their eyes met again as the crowd cheered, and Shiro fought against the temptation to leap over the barrier and fling himself at Keith's feet. He settled on a wave as Coran thanked him for his service to the kingdom, turning to bow a few times before disappearing behind the curtain again.

The exertion of his fight with Lotor and his nerves at what the end of the show might mean left Shiro gasping for breath as he pulled off his helmet, taking the bottle of water Matt wiggled in front of his face with a grateful smile before draining half of it. "You're a mess, you know that?" Matt scoffed, his smile belying his harsh words.

Shiro nodded. "Yeah, guilty," he agreed without argument. "Think he'll stick around?" He murmured, face scrunching in trepidation as he asked.

Rolling his eyes, Matt patted Shiro on the back and pointed towards the door where the guests would be waiting to meet their hero. "One way to find out," he teased, slapping Shiro's armored behind with a laugh.

* * *

 

Keith sat motionless, staring at the black curtain as it hung lifelessly in the empty arena. His breath came in ragged gasps as though he'd been the one dueling seemingly for his life. Lance shook the side of Keith's chair, jarring him from his trance.

"Dude, show's over." He hooked his thumb behind his shoulder, gesturing towards the door.

Keith licked his dry lips and nodded, scraping his chair along the floor with a harsh squeal as it skidded backwards against his thighs. He deftly scooped the rose off the table, cradling it in his palm as he followed Lance down the aisle and up the stairs, casting one last glance behind him before they spilled into the crowded entryway.

The staff entrance was already swarmed with children and their parents, clamoring to get more pictures with the Princess, or the King, or their victorious champion. Keith scanned the crowd for the White Knight, rose clutched tightly to his chest.

As if sensing the eyes searching for him, Shiro stood from where he knelt in the middle of a pile of kids, meeting Keith's gaze. Both faces softened and they moved towards each other as one, each only making it a few steps before the other patrons barred their paths.

Before he could push through the crowd, barrel his way toward Shiro and congratulate his Knight with a kiss, Lance grabbed at his elbow. "Dude, come on!"

Keith whipped his arm from Lance's grip. "Cool it for 5 minutes!" He snapped, turning his head back.

"Come on, everyone's waiting for us! I'll get his number from Veronica or something," Lance whined, grabbing his arm again.

Keith frowned, surveying the crowd again. There was no telling how long Shiro was obligated to stay on the clock, performing his Knightly duties. "I got us a party bus! They've been sitting in the parking lot for like half an hour, some old lady threatened to call the cops." Lance's voice cut through his indecision.

He sighed, locking eyes with Shiro again and letting a sad smile pull at the corners of his mouth. He held the rose up and waited for Shiro's answering nod before letting Lance pull him towards the exit.

The chilly air in the parking lot ran shivers up his spine as he carefully tucked the flower into his wallet, already trying to decide which book he'd use to press it when he got home. Lance let out an excited whoop as they approached the bus.

"I swear to everything that is holy, if there are strippers on this bus, no one will ever find all the pieces of your mangled body," he growled under his breath.

Lance scoffed and waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Like I'd waste 'em on you if I could afford strippers."

Keith rolled his eyes and readied his own biting retort when a faint jingling noise behind him had him wheeling around. The court jester and announcer of the show was bustling towards them, face scrunched as though he'd just sucked on a lemon. Keith raised an eyebrow as the man approached, stopping with a huff right in front of him.

"Hey, you gotta come back in, I already can't handle this," he begged, wide honey eyes glimmering with pain.

Keith's mouth rolled into an 'o' as he blinked in confusion. "Wha..?" Was all he managed.

"Shiro already won't shut up about you, please don't do this to me." He held his hands up clasped together tightly in front of his chest.

Lance groaned. "Come on, ignore that dumb elf or whatever, we're gonna get a ticket!" He gestured wildly to the bus.

"When does he work next?" Keith asked in a breathless rush, mind reeling.

The sour lemon look reappeared as the man glared at Lance. "I'm very clearly a Jester, not an elf," he corrected, rolling his eyes before turning back to Keith. "He works tomorrow night, second show. Starts at 8."

"I'll be here," Keith promised, face set in determination.

The man sighed in relief. "Thank god. I'll put you on the list, don't waste money on another ticket." He grabbed Keith's hand and pumped it hard twice. "Thank you."

Keith shook his head in disbelief as the jester turned, jingling his way back inside. His hand landed on the bulge of his wallet where it sat in his pocket, a faint smile creeping up onto his bewildered cheeks as he followed Lance onto the bus.


	3. Chapter 3

The next night,  Keith showed up at a quarter to 8 more nervous than he'd ever been. He approached the bored teenager at the ticket booth and crossed his arms, realizing for the first time that he had no idea what to say. "Can I like, help you?" She popped her gum and pulled off the fleck that stuck to her nose.

He swallowed hard and looked around for a moment. "Yeah, hi, I uh," he kept his voice low so the other patrons behind him couldn't hear their conversation. "The jester guy told me he'd put me on the list for tonight."

Staring up at him blankly, she rolled her eyes. "Like, of course he did. What's your name?"

"Keith," he murmured, standing up on his toes to see around the monitor. "But my friend Lance bought our tickets yesterday, so it might be under his name."

With a sigh, she scrolled through the list of names. "Oh, yeah, here you are," she snorted out a laugh. "Don't worry you're in Shiro's section again." She popped her gum again, sliding the ticket across the counter with an amused glint in her eyes.

Keith swiped the paper and stuffed it in his pocket along with his hands, face darkening with blush as he headed inside. The man at the door took his ticket and showed him to his seat with little fanfare.

The show was just as captivating as it had been the night before, though Shiro wasn't doing nearly as well in the contests that night. He missed several rings in the first round and hardly scanned the crowd at all as he tossed roses to several screaming women in the front row with a lack-luster smile that didn't reach his eyes. It still took Keith's breath away even though he could tell it wasn't genuine. His gaze was locked on Shiro's every move and the only coherent thought he could muster was  _ look up here, please, I'm here,  _ but Shiro never noticed his spot tucked in the corner of the middle row.

The jousting round began with the crash of a gong and Keith on the edge of his seat. Shiro had done incredibly well the night before but he'd seemed to have lost all of his fire. The Green Knight's horse thundered towards Shiro's, the wooden lances splintering and shattering against metal shields.

Keith jumped to his feet as Shiro hit the dirt, rolling onto his stomach in cloudy haze of dust from the horses' short sprints. The woman next to him gave him an odd look before turning back to the show, watching as Shiro staggered first to his knees and then fully upright, limping off the field with his arm slung over his squire's shoulder.

He sat back down, worry gnawing at his stomach while he tried to eat the meal placed in front him as the staff set up the next event. Picking at the roll just for something to do, he considered leaving the arena and waiting by the meet and greet entrance early.

The man who’d knocked Shiro off of his horse strode out to fight the Black Knight for the final round of the show, and that was all Keith needed to make his decision. He was glad, at least, that the person who’d beaten Shiro would end up the night’s winner. 

* * *

The speakers next to the exit crackled to life with the sound of horns. Veronica and Coran linked arms and walked out to greet the crowd first, followed by shortly by Kinkade. The rest of the knights gave them a minute to be swarmed by the waiting kids before following after. 

Shiro stepped woodenly through the curtain behind the rest of them, the same fake smile he'd been wearing all evening plastered across his face. He hardly bothered to look at the crowd, knowing everyone would be flocking to the Princess and Kinkade since he was the night's victorious champion. A soft nudge at his arm drew his attention and his eyes widened in shock as they met the deep indigo-blue gaze staring back at him.

"You... you came back," he whispered breathlessly.

Keith nodded, the shy smile on his face sending Shiro's pulse racing. "Yeah, I... I know it's crazy but I," he stammered, looking around uncomfortably. "Is there somewhere we could talk privately?"

Shiro stood up straighter and looked around as well. He heard the tell-tale jingle of Matt's shoes before he saw him approach from behind. "No one's in the back, I'll cover for you," he said with a wink, slapping at Shiro's armor.

Shiro grinned. "Thanks," he murmured appreciatively, nodding at Matt as he distracted a little girl who'd been trying to get Shiro's attention.

"Come on, back here." Shiro slipped his hand into Keith's and nudged him towards the curtain, the pair slipping easily beyond the heavy fabric with no one the wiser.

He led Keith by the hand, more thankful than ever for his thick gloves as his sweaty palm slid against the leather. They stopped in front of Atlas's stall and turned to face each other. "Uh," Shiro licked his dry lips with his equally dry tongue, brain desperately scrabbling for something to say. "Hi." His jaw tightened with his clenched teeth.

Keith chuckled softly. "Hi," he replied fondly.

Shiro glanced down at their threaded fingers and smiled as he looked up again. "Thanks for coming, I," he trailed off, brows furrowing as his eyes landed on the thin scratch marring Keith's cheek. Before he could think better of it, he lifted his hand and ran his thumb across the raised flesh. "I'm really sorry about that."

Keith reached up and took his hand again, pulling it back down between them. "Doesn't hurt." He let his long bangs shield his eyes as he blushed. "I should have caught it, it was a good throw."

A long, quiet moment passed as they stood together, hands linked and both desperate to break the awkward silence. Atlas intervened, whinnying loudly behind them. Shiro laughed and patted his snout fondly. "Sorry, this is Atlas. He loves being the center of attention."

Keith chuckled along and held his hand up for Atlas to sniff at curiously before running it cautiously up the length of his face. "Never met a horse before," Keith admitted quietly. "It's pretty cool."

Soft smile breaking out into an excited grin, Shiro opened the gate and stepped inside, holding it open for Keith. "Want me to take you for a ride?" He offered, nodding his head towards the horse.

Keith's eyes lit up. "Absolutely."

Shiro stuffed his boot into the stirrup on Atlas's right side and swung himself nimbly up onto the saddle, shuffling backwards to leave plenty of room for Keith in front of him. He guided Atlas forward a few steps and leaned over, holding his hand out for Keith to take it. They fumbled together, laughing as Keith scrambled up and over, settling himself into the saddle and leaning back into Shiro as closely as he could.

Shiro cleared his throat, thankful for the thick armor separating them as he slid closer and wrapped his arms around Keith to reach for the reins. Hooking his head over Keith's shoulder so both of them could see, he clicked his tongue and led Atlas to the entrance to the arena again. Atlas scuffed at the sand with a hoof and tossed his head to the side with a snort.

"Wanna see how fast he can run?" Shiro murmured into Keith's ear.

Keith shivered, scooting even farther back into the embrace and gripped at Shiro's legs that framed his own. "Show me whatchya got." It was all the permission Shiro needed. 

Shiro tightened his elbows against Keith's side and leaned forward, nudging Atlas along. Keith's hands dug into the thick leather of his pants as they rocketed along the oval path around the edge of the stadium. It wasn't big enough for Atlas to reach his top speed, but there was plenty of room to send the seats whizzing past them in a laughter-filled blur.

Feeling Atlas's fatigue after a long night and an impromptu race, Shiro shifted his grip, easing them to a walk after a few minutes. Keith let out another breathless laugh and relaxed against Shiro's chest. "That was incredible!" He leaned to the side and smiled up at Shiro without straightening. "Thanks."

Shiro blushed and kept his eyes forward as he guided them back into Atlas's stall. "No problem, I'm glad you had fun." He hopped down and held his arms up to help Keith.

Keith braced himself against Shiro's shoulders and slid down from the saddle, nimbly landing on his feet and shuffling forward to cross his hands behind Shiro's neck. Face all but glowing, Shiro let his hands glide down Keith's waist and settle at his hips. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, both still panting from the excitement of their ride.

Their eyelids lowered as their faces drew closer together, tilting in opposite directions as their lips drew to a hair's breadth. Atlas let out a disapproving huff, stomping at the ground and thumping at Keith's back with his head. They slammed together, noses knocking before their foreheads clunked and rebounded. Both of them jumped away from each other with a pained gasp.

"Ugh, I'm so sorry, are you ok?" Shiro held a hand to his swollen lip and stepped towards Keith again.

He nodded, rubbing at the red welt above his eye where it had smashed into Shiro's already-swelling cheekbone. "Yeah, guess your horse doesn't like me, though," he mumbled with a smile that came out mostly grimace.

Shiro shook his head. "He's just mad I forgot to give him his treat." He walked through the gate to a small cabinet and pulled an apple off of a pile before securing it again. Wagging a scolding finger, he held it up and laughed as Atlas devoured it from his palm. "I always give him apples before and after we do events, they're his favorite." He stroked along Atlas's neck as the horse chomped away. "I was a little distracted tonight," Shiro admitted shyly, craning his neck towards Keith again. 

Keith blushed and ducked his head, reaching out to pat Atlas on side for something to do with his hands. "It was still a good show." His gaze stayed fixed on the horse instead of looking over at Shiro. "Was kinda worried when you fell though, that guy really nailed you." Keith frowned as he petted.

Shiro shrugged, wiping his hand off on his pants as Atlas finished eating. "It's all mostly acting," he deflected, pulling his chest plate off and setting it up against the stall. "Plus I got Ryan really good yesterday, so I owed him."

Keith couldn't help but watch as Shiro wrestled free of the rest of his armor and rolled his impressive shoulders. He snapped his jaw shut as Shiro turned towards him again. "Sorry, I probably smell like a sweaty horse." He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

"You smell fine," Keith replied, quickly enough to make both of them look away, blushing.

Shiro cleared his throat. "So uh, so you came back two nights in a row... are you a big fan of the show?" He shoved his hands into his pockets.

The corner of Keith's lips tilted up into a shy smile. "Didn't exactly come back for the show." He kicked at the ground uncomfortably. “It’s awesome, though,” he amended quickly. “Been doing it long?”  

Shiro chuckled softly and walked over to Atlas’s side again. “Only for a couple of years, putting myself through school, but I’ve been riding since I was old enough to walk.” He stroked a hand along the horse’s side as he reminisced, smiling as Atlas tossed his head appreciatively. 

“Huh,” Keith approached and gave Atlas another tentative pat. “Don’t see that everyday.” 

"Yeah, some kids have dogs... I had horses." Shiro turned to him with a bright grin. "And Atlas has been my best bud since he was just a little guy. He was born on my birthday so he ended up being my present."

Keith smiled fondly, looking back and forth between them. "So you really did get a pony for your birthday."

Shiro laughed and nudged at Keith's shoulder with his own, wincing as the bruise he'd gotten earlier twinged. "Are you ok?" Keith stepped closer and put his hand just below the injury, already pulling Shiro's undershirt back to inspect the damage.

"Yeah, I'm, uh," his face blossomed red as he stammered. "It's no big deal."

Keith frowned. "Should probably get a cold pack or something," he insisted. "There a first aid kit around somewhere?"

Shiro cleared his throat and left the stall again, pulling open another cabinet tucked away between the lines of horses. The white and red medical kit popped open with a nudge from his thumb and he dug through the contents until he found what he was looking for. Tossing the rest of the kit back into its spot, he cracked the pack and balanced it awkwardly across his shoulder as he joined Keith back in Atlas's stall.

"Here, let me," Keith murmured, striding up to him and holding onto the ice pack so Shiro could let his arm hang at his side again.

"Thanks." It came out a breathless whisper and Keith's answering smile had his heart hammering in his chest again.

Keith licked his lips and took a deep breath. "So uh, are you free next weekend?" Keith asked, eyes glittering with hope in low lighting. 

Shiro cringed. "I uh... I actually just committed to working pretty much all of next weekend," he said with an embarrassed groan.

Keith shoulders slumped a little and his grip on the ice pack shifted. "Oh.”

The disappointment in his voice went straight to Shiro’s gut. "I don’t usually work this often, but I had to take the extra shifts so I could switch up the program last night..." He rambled, cringing at the confession. "I wanted to win so that, so I could impress you."

Keith blinked in surprise before letting out a full belly laugh. "Well it worked. I'm very impressed."

Lips twitching into a puddle of a smile, Shiro let out a strangled chuckle. "Yeah?" He whispered, eyes roving over Keith's face and landing on his lips before flicking back up.

"Yeah," Keith murmured back, leaning in and pressing their mouths together.

Shiro melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around the small of Keith's back and pulling their hips together. Ice pack forgotten somewhere in the sand and hay on the floor, one of Keith's hands worked its way up into Shiro's helmet-matted hair and gripped just the right side of too-tightly as their lips and tongues slid against each other.

Keith pushed them backwards until Shiro's legs met the side of the stall, both of them groaning as he flattened against the wood. Shiro's left hand slid lower, gripping at Keith's hip desperately as Atlas huffed in apparent distaste at the display.

They pulled away laughing, resting their foreheads together as their breathing evened. "Maybe, uh," Shiro bit at his bottom lip nervously. "We could get dinner, some time this week?" 

Keith smiled and rubbed their noses together. "Yeah, that sounds good." He tilted his head to press another, much softer kiss to Shiro's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took a million years lol! Come yell at me [on tumblr!](https://lasersheith.tumblr.com)


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